New Contemporary Women’s Fiction for Review: Don’t You Forget About Me by Suzanne Jenkins

Don't You Forget About Me Suzanne Jenkins will be touring July, August & September 2012 with her women’s fiction novel, Don’t You Forget About Me, Book 2 in the Pam of Babylon series.

When charming, seemingly devoted Jack Smith dies, his wife and his two girlfriends are astonished to learn that they were not the only love of his life, and that, in fact, Jack was a rogue who was carrying on secret affairs with other women. Shattered by grief and stunned by Jack’s betrayals, these three women, Pam Smith, Marie Fabian, and Sandra Benson, find themselves suddenly thrown together. They could have despised one another, jealously guarding their private memories of their time with Jack and hating those they perceived to be their rivals, but instead, the women begin to realize there might be strength in numbers and in shared pain. Slowly, they begin to open their hearts to one another. They bind together to try to make sense of their lives and to try to heal the terrible shock.

Book Excerpt:

I hope this guy doesn’t turn out to be a jerk,Marie Fabian thought as she drove upstate to spend the weekend at Jeff Babcock’s.She had met him on the beach in front of her sister Pam’s house back in June.So far they had coffee together twice, lunch three times, and dinner every weekend for the past six weeks.When Jeff invited her to visit him for the weekend at his house in Rhinebeck, it seemed like a great idea to get out of the city and not go to Pam’s for a change.But now, as she navigated the Taconic Parkway in weekend traffic, she wasn’t so sure.Doubts floating through her mind eroded the excitement she had felt when she locked her apartment door that morning.Walking toward the garage to get her car, dragging her suitcase behind her, she caught herself whistling a little.

Now she was questioning her wisdom. What was I thinking?She barely knew the guy.He had lived down the beach from Pam and her late husband Jack for twenty years, and she had never seen him before.Or hadn’t noticed him.Someone else was taking all her attention.Now she was faced with the possibility that Jeff would want to sleep with her that weekend.They hadn’t discussed the sleeping arrangements; Marie assumed she would sleep alone.Do I want to sleep alone?she thought.

For a forty-five-year-old woman, Marie had little experience with dating in general and men in particular. Or, more accurately, more than one man. She was simply allowing “things” to happen with Jeff, not putting up too many boundaries, but not getting overly involved too quickly, either. She was having difficulty figuring out his intensions. Although he pursued her, once they were finally together, he wasn’t acting very interested.

She turned the radio on to keep her mind thinking about something else.An old Don Henley song came on, and she belted out the chorus to “Boys of Summer”:

I can tell youmy love for you will still be strong

After the boys of summer have gone

It had only been weeks since Jack Smith died, and she was already going away for the weekend with another man while singing the songs Jack used to sing to her.Could it be possible that she was over Jack already?She thought back to the first time she met Jeff.She had fled the city that day, feigning illness or family emergency at work (she couldn’t remember which now), getting into her car, and heading toward her sister’s house in Babylon.She went over the speed limit all the way, keeping up with traffic.As soon as she got there, she put on her bathing suit, grabbed a beach chair and a paperback, and went out to sit in the sun. It was a perfect beach day, and the sand was packed with other sunbathers.The area in front of Pam’s was already crowded, so she had to walk south a few yards to find an empty spot. She ended up in front of Jeff’s fabulous house. The oceanfront facade and landscaping appeared in the Sunday home section of the paper just about every summer.

Most all the sunbathers followed the sun’s path, moving their towels and chairs every thirty minutes or so as it traveled toward the west.But Marie liked facing the ocean.She would look up from her book periodically to stare at the water, hopefully spotting dolphins or boats, way, way out there.When Jack was alive, he always remembered to bring binoculars, and they would take turns examining the horizon for interesting finds.

Jack liked looking at people, too. He’d find lovers kissing under their umbrellas or suspicious movements underneath carefully placed towels.He was really a pervert, she thought to herself.Creepy. She relished being alone for the first time in her memory.She could nap without worrying if she drooled or snored, or mindlessly snack while she read her novel.

Jack could also be a tyrant.She remembered, on one of their beach days together when she was just twenty years old, falling asleep on a beach towel and waking up to find Jack staring at her body with his lips slightly pursed.She sat up self-consciously, hoping she hadn’t farted in her sleep.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him, quickly pulling her towel around her.

He was sitting next to her, scrutinizing her face and looking along the length of her.

“You’re thin, but you’re not in shape.You need to work out.”He said, nodding his head yes at her, and turned to look out at the ocean again.

Eager to please him in every way, she agreed, saying she would start going to the fitness center at school as soon she as she got back to the city.

“Yeah right,” he said sarcastically.Then more kindly, “You should ask your sister to give you some advice about a workout.Ask Pam. She’s in great shape,” he said with a devious smile. It was the first time Jack had ever held his wife, her sister Pam, up to Marie as an example.It would be the beginning of years of humiliation and criticism that he would pile on, playing the sisters against each other in a battle that Pam knew nothing about.

Worried that he may be plotting to end their relationship, Marie would have done anything he asked to keep him happy and near her.“Okay, I’ll ask her. Maybe she’ll take me to the gym with her.”

But he ignored her, lying back down on the towel and closing his eyes, his forearm draped over his face, ensuring that he didn’t have to see her.She held her stomach in and stood up straighter the rest of the day, regretful that she had worn a two-piece suit. That evening she would find one of the provocative underwear catalogues Pam shopped from and buy a suit with a push-up bra and tummy control panel. And that night, Jack would come to her bed, and she welcomed him, the insults at the beach already forgotten.

338 pages

You can visit the author’s website at www.suzannejenkins.net.

If you would like to review Don’t You Forget About Me, please fill out the form below or email Dorothy Thompson at thewriterslife(at)gmail.com. Please mention which date would work for you.

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